


(not so) Cold

by LiraelClayr007



Series: NaPoWriMo 2019 [27]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Nine's leather jacket - Freeform, Poetry, References to Shakespeare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-10 01:09:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18649843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiraelClayr007/pseuds/LiraelClayr007
Summary: The Doctor takes Rose out for a night at the theatre. When they leave, he finds a way to keep her warm.**a nine/rose poem**





	(not so) Cold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyPaigeC](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyPaigeC/gifts).



Rose jumps to her feet,

applauding

and cheering

with all those around her.

She catches the Doctor’s eye

and grins. She leans against him

so she can be heard

amongst the tumult and half-shouts

into his ear, _Doctor, this is brilliant!_

_Easily the best performance of_

Twelfth Night _I’ve ever seen,_

_and all the actors_

_have blue skin_

_and ears like rabbits!_

_Shakespeare would_ **_love_ ** _this._

 

The Doctor grins back.

_Right he would, his works_

_being performed_

_to the ends of the universe._

 

The actors--

all a shocking shade of blue

and none taller than four feet--

take their final bows

then file off the stage.

The clapping ebbs

and the sound in the theatre

turns to shuffling feet

and excited murmurings

as the crowd disperses.

Rose leans onto the balcony rail

to watch the dazzling cross-section

of alien-ness, all dressed in their finest,

making their way to the exits.

 

_Love the fancy box seats,_

_by the way,_

_Nice use of the psychic paper,_

_letting them believe we’re_

_visiting royals._

Rose grins.

 

The Doctor looks smug.

_I didn’t do it,_

_it’s what they wanted_

_to see. But I don’t mind_

_the results_. He pats

the plush seat. _Always nice_

_to be comfortable in a theatre._

 

He stands,

bows gravely,

and offers Rose his hand.

_Come along, your highness._

_We’re TARDIS bound._

 

She giggles. _Why thank you,_

 _majesty_. She rises and offers

a pretty curtsey,

then takes his hand.

She feels very grand,

walking down the wide staircase

with her Doctor’s hand in hers.

 

At the bottom of the stairs

he shrugs out of his jacket

and drapes it over

her shoulders.

_Take my jacket,_

he says. _It’s cold_

_outside._

 

_How could you possibly_

_know that?_

 

Part of her wants to argue.

But if it really is cold

her sleeveless dress

won’t do much

to keep her warm, and

(if she’s honest)

most of her revels

in being wrapped up

in the sudden warmth

and scent

of the Doctor.

 

He waves his hands about,

that maddening

(adorable)

smug look on his face again.

_I can feel the draft_

_every time the front doors_

_open. It’s cold._

 

She again thinks of protesting--

she doesn’t want him to think of her

as the “weak human”--

but then she breathes in his scent

surrounding her,

and suddenly she is more than

warm. Heat coils

in her center,

rises up her cheeks.

 

_Thank you, Doctor._

 

She looks up at him through her lashes.

 

A hand on her lower back,

he guides her through the lobby.

As they step onto the street he

whispers into her ear,

_Did I tell you yet how_

_beautiful_

_you look tonight?_

 

She doesn’t feel

the cold.

  


**Author's Note:**

> NaPoWriMo day 27 | prompt: nine x rose and "take my jacket. it's cold outside."
> 
> Hope you don't mind the pressie...I thought you might like a little nine/rose sweetness. 💙


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